Nathan Hystad - The Survivors - Books 1-3

Once again in the hallway, we kept going, avoiding the smaller side rooms, which at this point were fewer and fewer. Maybe the exterior of the hall walls was touching outside at this point. That would explain a lot. It could either be a pedway, if we were above ground, or just a corridor to connect two structures together.

Eventually, a door appeared at the end of the walkway. A small glass window allowed us to see through the thick metallic door, and I peered into it, expecting to see more of the same.

Someone was looking back at us from the other side.

“G et out of the way,” Slate said, shoving me to the side and raising his gun.

“Hold on. It didn’t look armed.” Whatever it was, it looked as startled as I’d been to see someone there.

Slate waited a moment, his back against the wall beside the door lever. He held his finger in front of his oxygen mask, telling me to stay quiet. We heard nothing. After staying like that for a long minute, Slate snuck over to the glass and looked through it.

“They’re still there. Sitting on the ground, arms in the air. What the hell is that?” he asked, and I moved beside him, looking in. The alien was stout, a dark uniform adorned its body, and it looked like it had multiple limbs. Two were in the air, another two fidgeting nervously in front of it. It was dark in the hall, but when I shone my light through, large eyes looked back, reminding me of a baby seal. Underneath the eyes, a protuberance emerged, not unlike an anteater’s snout, but only about five inches long. The whole effect was non-threatening, but things in nature often appeared that way to lull their prey. I wasn’t going to be fooled.

“What do you think?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Maybe it can help us get back home.” He said the word home , and for a second, I thought of my house in upstate New York. That wasn’t my home anymore. We didn’t have one.

I agreed, and we decided to open the door, but cautiously, and with rifles pointed at the defenseless-looking creature.

The door popped, then hissed as Slate slid it, and I kept my rifle pointed at the alien, who scrambled back, all four of its arms now raised and waving around. It let out a series of squeaks and squawks in the process.

“Hello,” I said, lowering my rifle. Slate kept his pointed in the alien’s direction, but I took the lead. “I’m Dean, and this is Slate. We’re lost and need help getting out of here.”

It clearly didn’t understand me and kept chittering away, the noises a mix of bird and dolphin. “We don’t know what you’re saying.” I pointed down the hall from where we came, hoping it would know we’d emerged from the room with the solitary gemstone and hieroglyphics. I drew one of the symbols in the air with my right index finger and repeated it a few times before the alien seemed to acknowledge it comprehended.

“You coom from fer away.” It spoke in squeaks, and a speaker on its suit repeated in near-English. Once again, I was amazed by the universe’s ability to translate language. The more I spoke, the sooner we could speak fluently together.

“We do come from far away. Very good. As I said, I’m Dean,” I paused, putting a hand on my chest, “and this big man with a gun is Slate. We mean you no harm.” Slate lowered the gun beside me and tried to smile, but it looked forced and a little scarier than the gun. I glowered at him and he stopped, giving me a real smirk.

A few more squawks: “I am Suma. I mean you no harm.”

“That’s good. I was getting worried,” Slate said, noticeably relaxed in front of the short alien.

“Stay on guard. We don’t know anything about Suma here.” I whispered the words, but the alien got onto its wide feet, and I saw it was even shorter than I’d initially thought, no more than four feet tall.

“I stuck here. Want father.”

I clued in. This was a child. “How did you get here, Suma?”

It pointed the way we’d come. “Same way you did. Through the Shandra . The Stones.”

My blood turned cold at hearing the name. Shandra . It was as if part of me understood the word: an ominous portent of things to come.

“Slate. That name. The puppeteer guiding me through the caves. I think my Kraski blood led me there, and now I feel as though I know the name. Shandra .”

Suma’s eyes went wide when I said Kraski . “You not Kraski,” it said matter-of-factly.

“No, I’m not. But have some of their blood pumping through my veins.” Suma took a step back at that, like I was some sort of freak, hell-bent on stealing alien blood. “It’s a long story, and it was given to me freely to save my life. If we can travel through the Stones, let’s go. You can show us how it works.”

It squeaked a couple times, the translator not picking up what Suma said. “I cannot show you.”

“Why?” Slate asked, his jaw muscles flexing.

“Because we are stuck here.”

The thought of being stranded on this alien world turned my blood to ice. I needed to get back, to help my sister, but that outcome was probably already decided. I could only hope it ended with Mary and Magnus leading those people out of the cave, and back to their homes.

“How did you get here?” I asked Suma, who looked like an admonished child as it spoke.

“My father is the Gatekeeper on my world. I was playing with my brother, and I hid inside the Shandra . I somehow turned it on, and I came here by accident,” Suma said, and I was ninety percent sure Suma was a female of her species. I couldn’t bring myself to ask, in case I was wrong, or in case they didn’t have different sexes.

“Why won’t this one work?” Slate asked.

“The stone needs to be charged, and this one is too weak.” The translator was working almost perfectly.

“That means we need to find the juice to light this building up,” I said. “Do you know where we are? Are we still in Proxima?”

Suma looked at me, head cocked to the side, like she was trying to comprehend the name I’d just said. “I think this is one of the outer cities: a civilization that vanished thousands of years ago. My people haven’t studied all of the planets thoroughly yet, but I believe this is one of those abandoned.”

Thousands of years. I looked around at the hall we were in. To think a race of aliens walked them centuries upon centuries ago was mind-boggling. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to them. “You’re saying the stone can transport us to any number of planets, and they all have a similar room where you appear and can travel from?”

“Yes. Some are buried deep on worlds that have no idea the Stone exists. Others have been destroyed over the millennia. My world is one of those in charge of keeping them active where possible.” The squeaks and squawks became softer. “I’m going to be in so much trouble.”

“Do the different drawings on the table represent different worlds?” I asked, excitement at the possibilities causing my hand to start shaking.

“Yes.”

I glanced over at Slate, whose gun hand was at ease. He leaned against the hallway, deep in thought.

“How do we power up the stone?” I asked.

“I don’t know. There has to be a backup system somewhere, because my people have been here and returned before. I’m not permitted to see the logs yet.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because… I’m still a child in their eyes.” She looked down, her snout wiggling in discomfort.

“Suma, we’ll find the power and get you home safe. Right, Slate?” I asked.

“Right, boss,” he said, giving me a determined look.

“How long have you been here?” I asked the smaller alien.